Decatur Eagle, Volume 1, Number 9, Decatur, Adams County, 10 April 1857 — Page 1

... . . ,II ■ I ,11 TII E I) I C A T I R EAG LE.

VOL. 1.

THE DECATUR EAGLE, PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING. Office, ou Main Street, in the old School House, one Square North o! J. &P Crabs' Store. Terras of Subscription : For one year, $ I 511, in advance; $1 75, •> ithin six months; $2 00, after the year has expired. IT No paper will be discontinued until all arreragrs are paid, except at the option of the Publisher. Terms of Advertising: One Square, three insertions, $1 00 Each subsequent insertion, 25 ■‘f’TN’o advertisement will be considered less than one square; ever one square will be counted and charged as two; over two, as three, etc. JOB PRINTING. We are prepared to do all kinds of JOB WORK, in a neat and workmanlike manner, on the most reasonable terms. Our material for the completion of Job-work, being new and of the latest styles, wo are confident that satisfaction can bo given. Law of Newspapers. 1. Sub’cribers who do not give express notice Jo the contrary, are considered as wishing to continue their subscriptions. S. If subscribers order the discontinuance of their papers, the publisher may continue to send them until all arrearages are paid. 3. If subscribers neglect or refuse to take their papers from thecfllce they are held responsible till thev have settled the bill and ordered the paper discontinued. 4. If subscribers remove to other places without informing the publisher, and the paper is still sent to the former direction, they are held responsible. lJ*The Court have decided that refusing of lake a paper from the office, or removed and leaving ituncalled forisrniM.v facie evidence of intentional fraud. ‘NS,’*.' NT9» K Ki M • nr JOHN G. SAXE. Os all the amusements of the mind, From logic down to fishing. There isn’t one that you can find Bo very cheap as “wishing!” A very ehoivo diversion, too, If we but rightly use it, And not, ns we are apt to do. Pervert it and abuse it. ’ wish—a common wish indeed — My purse was somewhat fatter, Thatl might cheer the child of need And not my pride to flatter, That I might make oppression reel, As only gold can malto it. And break the tyrant's rod of steel, As only gold can break it! I wish that sympathy and lore, And every human passion That has itsorigion above. Would come and keep in fashion— That acorn, and jealousy, and hate, And every base emotion. Were buried fifty fathoms deep Beneath the waves of the ocean. I wish that friends were always true. And motives always pure; I wish the good were not so few, I wish the bad were fewer; 1 wish that persons ne’er forgo; Teheed their pious teaching; I wirh that practising was not So different from preaching. I wish that modern worth might ha Appraised with truth and candor; I wish that innocence were free From treachery and slander; I wish that men their vows would mind. That women ne’er were rovers; I wish that wives were always kind. And husbands always lovers. I wish —in fine—thatjoy and mirth. And every good ideal, May come erewhile thro’out the earth, To be the glorious real. Till God shall every creature bless Withhis supremest blessing, And hope be lost in happiness. And wishing be possessing. U-luv— ~■ ■ . ' “ HUNTING A SITUATION. BY MAURICES SILINGSBT. John Peters has just graduated from the Mercantile College in New York, and with a recommendation and diploma in his pocket, was now in search of a situation. He was a good-looking young man of twenty-three; he earned with his own hands the money Professor Ferdinand Costello De Guer had received in exchange for his education. If we mistake not, John Peters was a native of a little town in Connecticut, which, from some oversight on the part of previous compilers. has had the misfortune to be entirely overlooked by the great Mr. Brookes in his universal scrutiny of the State. For fear of rendering the town classical, as being the birth-place of our hero, we shall refrain from father mention of it, satisfied that the curiosity already excited, will induce fuiher compilers to be more accurate in their researches and thus, in.course of time, it may come to be awarded to the aforsaid town, in spite of ita isolation and obscurity, its due share of geographical notice end importance.

In what part of the city John Peters resided, or where he happened to be on the morning to which we refer, is a point not clearly shown. lam sorry, however, because the locality of John Peters might tend to strengthen the identity of John Peters, and prevent him (had this fact with other important items been clearly established in the mind of the wealthy and influential John Meirs) from entrapping the pretty bird which policy and worldly calculation had already beat into the bush for John Peters, the second. That John Peters has been looking over the morning papers cannot be doubted, from the fact that nine o’clock A. M., found him standing at the door of Mr. Joshua Meirs, counting room; Mr. Joshua Meirs having that morning advertised for a book-keeper. Mr. Meris? I believe I have the honor of addressing Mr. Joshua Meirs? said Mr, John Peters, touching his hat and bowing profoundly in that direction. The same! responded Mr. Meirs with a ) frigidly dignified nod. Can 1 be of any service to you? Please proceed. John Peters hesitated and glanced about the room; the presence of Mr. Meirs was recognizable in every object. What shall I do? If there was only a hole somewhere, thought John, But there was no hole, and our hero proceeded. My name is Peters—John Peters. Mr. Meirs sprang from his arm chair, as though he had received a shock from some invisible battery. John Peters? By all that's gracious! cried Mr. Meirs, embracing him. And here, like an old simpleton have I been' treating you, thinking you a stranger all! the while according to the most frigid rules of etiquette. I deserve to be blowed ! forever having studied Count De Orsay’s I Treatise. But how is your father?—how; stupid in me—lean see him in every feature of your face—in good spirits, 1 reckon?—yes, I see; no matter about the answer —arrived in the morning train—all j tired out, no doubt? Yes, of course, how ; could I expect you to be otherwise?—rode all night. I see! Perfectly unexpected,— ! Though I didn’t dream of your coming before the expiration of another week—l I think your father said in his letter a week ; from Friday—to-day, let me see, is Wed-! nesday—which would leave it a week) from day after to morrow. But no mat-j ter; you are just as welcome. Ab! here; comes an omnibus, it will take us within I two minutes’ walk of my residence, and ! Bella is at home this morning. She can’t help but be delighted—come, and Mr. Meirs caught the arm of John Peters and started in the direction of the s'reet. I fear there is a slight misunderstanding somewhere, faltered John, attempting to withdraw his arm; it is true my name is John Peters. Os course, and my name isJoshua Meirs, and you are to marry ray daughter Bella. I can see no misunderstanding in the matter. Hallo, he shouted, and at the same time beckoning to the driver of the ‘bus,’ and renewing his hold upon John Peter’s arm. Hello, there, two fares this way. The driver held up, and Mr. Meirs, in spite of half formed remonstrances of the bewildered John Peters, hurried him into the ’bus,’ and in live minutes more were ascending the marble steps of the merchant’s residence. Is Bella at home? inquired Mr. Meirs,; of the servant on the landing. Troth, and I think it was the young; misstress’ voice I was afthcr hearing just, now in the peanny room. Mr. Meirs led the way in the direction Indicated, while John, much embarrassed, followed. He felt it was high time for an explanation. But Mr. Meirs was too much pre-occupied withone idea, the identity of John Peters and his marriage with Bella, to heed the confused and broken sentencos of our hero, and the next; moment found him face to face with one of the most bewitchingly beautiful creatures i lie had ever seen in his life. This is Bella, said Meirs, with some : pride; you doubtless remember her. This is your cousin John, 1 hope you havn’t forgotten him. What in the world makes yon stare so, Bella? I toll you his hair would be as dark a’s your own, by this time, but you wouldn’t believe it. Here Mr. Meirs consulted his watch, and said — But I must be in wall street, by ten, so I must be obliged to trust you to your , own government till dinner. With this Mr. Meirs departed leaving our hero indescribably confused. No 1 sooner had he departed, than Bella burst ■ into a ringing laugh, and exclaimed, how funny. Merriment is said to be con-tagous. — John Peters laughed a response to Bella, and he had a most beautiful way of doing it, which Bella, in spite of the novelty of their situationjacknowledged with a bltfsh. There is a great mistake *made, said John Peters, bowing sorrowfully, as tho’ he ‘would a tale unfold.’ I see, said Bella, you are trying to cover up your jed hair with a wig. I hate

•‘Our Country’s Good shall ever be our Aim—Wining to Praise and not afraid to Blame."

DECATUR, ADAMS COUNTY INDIANA, APRIL 10,1857.

red hair, and the change makes you look . so funny—it does indeed. It is all a mistake, persisted John, redening,i I never woie a wig in my life. There you must have colored it, for it, was red ten years ago, and I used to laugh ; at you when I was angry, and advise you to keep one eye open, when you slept, ■ least it set the bed curiums on fire. What an awkward situation, cried John ' desperately. It is true, I am John Peters] but not the John Peters you take me for, and as for having red hair, I never had that honor, I can assure you. It was now Bella’s turn to look surprised. And who are you then, if you are not John Peters, of Baltimore? On the contrary I am John Peters of Connecticut, a graduate Irom the mercantille college and at present, in search of a situation, I am not your cousin, and never saw you to my knowledge, before today. I Though I mustconfess you are the pretties I girl I ever did see, and I begin to envy the genuine John Peters, your cousin, for I can’t help liking you a great deal already. You do? Indeed how funny! Then you are not my cousin from Baltimore, and what is better still my father thinks you are. I detest a cousin for a husband, and above all, a red haired husband, whether he be cousin or not. But how did it all! happen that papa made such an odd mistake? Well the fact is the whole thing was a mistake from the beginning, and was attributable to an advertisement in the mornI ing paper. Your father wanted a book keeper and •advertised. I saw the advertisement, . and applied directly for the situation.— Before stating my business I introduced ! myself as John Peters, wherupou your father forgetting there might be another . I John Peters in the world, bundled me in-I i to an omnibus, and hurried me here be-; ] fore I could offer tin explanation. How odd! exclaimed Bella. And you I are not my cousin then, after all? but I I rather like you, and am not a little pleased with the adventure because we can . both laugh together over father’s mistake. And the absent John Peters, red I hair. j But I must explain the matter immedi- | ately, though I dislike the idea of giving! i you up to the absent John Peters, answer I ed our hero, with the same winning smile, ] especially as you have a natural antipa- • thy to cousins with red hair. I don’t see the use in explaining Supposing we both keep quite and lot it go for granted that we are cousins—what harm can there be in it. And then, supposing that he, thinking me Cousin John should insist on our being married before the genuine. John Peters comes from Baltimore. Oh it would be delightful! I do so Late to marry my cousin John, besides j like you a thousand times better. There isn’t the least romance in marrying ones, cousin, especially such a cousin as John Peters of Baltimore. Here Bella laid her pretty white hand on his arm and said: But you don’t care for me; of course you wouldn’t like to be married to please me. I don’t blame you either, for I wouldn’t marry my cousin John if I could j help it. ■ On the contrary, cried John clasping I the little hand warmly, I wonld give the ; world for that happy privilege. Then you must promise me to keep still ; and let the matter rest as it is. You will do it won’t you? Most certainly, answerd John, if it pleases you. w * * • * On his return, and to his no little delight, Mr. Meirs found Bertha deeply in- ] terested in Cousin John. I thought that , vou would come round said he. These i girls are always perverse when their lovI ers are out of sight but mighty warm hearted and agreeable when they have ' got together. Howbeit, I fancy there is a slight vien of duplicity in the best of them, I do. Oh, no, papa, you should not bo so ! hasty in your conclusions, for haven’t II told you all along that Cousin John's hair was red and that my principal object- , ion was based upon that fact. But you see there is a slight mistake somewhere, i for his hair (pointing to the counterfeit I cousin,s) is quite dark and glossy. I ' must really confess, papa, that I like John • very much; a great deal better than I ex- ■ pected. Ido indeed. Then said Mr. Meirs exultingly, if I were in John’s place, I would just take the liberty to strike while the iron is hot. There is nothing gained by delays, and a' week hence you might be as far off the handle as yew were a week ago. di, no lam not so fickle; dut I will leave the whole matter with you and John. There Bella you talk like a sensible girl, cried Mr. M. I know you would. — 1 like your resolution. There is nothing so rare in the world’ as s sensible girl at

our time of life. John is no fop nor profligate. He will make you a good husband; will look after your interests, and I think will be worthy of you. As for the wedding, John, it shall be left en-. tirely to you. Bella is willing and I can see nothing to prevent its taking place right away. I think whatever you think proper; , said John. Any arrangement agreeable j to you will be equally so to me. I have ; a great respect and affection for Miss Meirs, and it I can be so tar forgiven for i presumption, I can safely say, that to be the husband of your daughter this moment or any future time, would be to i me the choicest gift of Heaven. Very sensible remarks said Mr. Meirs joyfully, and as you are obliging enough to leave the matter to my direction, I shall 1 say a week from Friday, that being the day on which I had first anticipated your coming. This will give Bella ample time for all necessary preparations, and you, also, to apprise your father and such other fiiends from Baltimore as you propose to invite. ‘lf I might be allowed my preference in this respect,’ answered our honor glancing at Bella for encouragement, ‘1 would much rather not mention it to my father and friends till afterwards, and thus give them an agreeable surprise. In fact, before I saw you this morning, I had not even dreamed of such sudden good fortune.’ ‘And besides,’ interposed Bella, earnestly, ‘your father might not feel much like journeying so soon after an attack of gout. As for me, I would much prefer a quiet wedding, with only a lew friends present. Besides, I would a great deal rather give the money away which would be spent on such an occasion, to some of the poor families who are starving in this city.’ ‘Nobly spoken!'cried Mr. Meirs, with enthusiasm, and glancing at Bella, with a world of pride and affection. ‘Nobly spoken my daughter With such prudence, and such charitable feelings you will make your Cousin John a pattern of a wife. I heartly agree with you in this respectl and you shall have it alt your own way. Our hero, >'iiu in truth, independent of her charms of person, had looked upon Bella as somewhat frivolous, was equally charmed by her remark, and, had the occasion warranted, would have pressd a kiss of approbation upon her lips. During the time which elapsed between this and the day set for the marriage of his daughter Mr. Meirs seemed overflow-; ing with good humor and enjoyment.— He made several presents to the poor of his acquaintance, and even give Bella the sum of five dollars to be used, if she chose fur the same puspose. In the meantime, our hero was living in the greatest possible intimacy with Bella. Every day they walked, rode, or sung together, while the merchant looked on, and entered into their plans within creasing satisfaction. At length the long anticipated Friday ! arrived, and a few chosen guests were i assembled at the residence of Air, Meirs, to witness the nuptials. John Peters had exhausted Lis last dollar in remunerating the tailor who had furnished him his wedding coat, and by I the assistance of the barber, who had trimed his moustache, cut and curled his I hair after the most approved style, our 1 hero was really as fine a looking fellow, as could be found anywhere within the, ’precincts of the city; Mr. Meirs, and I Bella were not a little croud of introducing him among their aristocratic friends. The pastor who presided over the church with which Mi. Meirs was connected, had already arrived, accompanied by a clerical acquaintance; while Bella attired in a dress of white satin, with a white veil surmounted by n crown of flowers, i had just entered, testing on the arm of ! the bridesmaid. During the sensation 1 created by the entrance of the bride, anI other door had opened and a young man, some five feet four inches in height, with : dusty garments and very red hair, was pushed in by the servant and with much ' amazement depicted on his freckled, unprepossessing features sank into the neaf--1 est chair, without attracting any partic- , uiar observation at the time, from the rest of the Company assembled, As the ceremony progresssed, and the question was asked by the clergymen if any one objected to the bans, he of the red hair and freckles rose up and said: ‘1 object, Mr. Clergyman, most decidedly . object— ’ •What?’ cried Mr. Meirs, springing | forward and confronting the excited young man of the red hair and freckles. ‘And who are you that dare to object to my i daughter’s marraige with her cousin? Will you explain yourself, sir? cried the enraged Mr. Meirs, shaking his fiist in the face of the terrified intruder. ‘Speak! or by my faith, I will bundle you headforemost into the street!’ ‘I can’t sir,’ cried the proprietor of the ‘hair, 'while you continue so excited 1 '

‘Then by my soul.! cried.the merchant, still more excited in his tone, ‘l’ll just give ! you to understand that you have no right i to' dictate in my own house!’ And suitI ing the action to the word, he seized the unlucky intruder by the shoulder, and forced him out of the room ‘Now,’ cried Mr. Meirs, turning to the , clergyman,’ ‘please proceed with the cerI emony ? Agreeably with Mr. 1 ' Meirs,' request the ceremony proceeded, and in less time ; than it takes u> to relate it, John and Bel la were indissolubly united in the bonds I of wedlock. i No sooner was the ceremony oicr, than' ( Bella, clasping her husband's hand, knelt I before her father and said: ‘Forgive us, ’dear father, for the deception we have I practiced upon you. This is not cousin John of Baltimore!' ‘Then who under the sun is he?’ cried j Mr. Meirs, glancing about the room in the most bewildered manner. ‘lt is John Peters, but not cousin John. My dear husband came in the first place ' to you. in search of a situation, and you, I targeting that there might be another John Peters in the world beside your nephew John, have very innocently assited us in carrying out the deception.— Therefore you must forgive him dear father, lie is far less to blame in the mat. ter than either of us, for you in the first' place being deceived by the name, and we in the second place having the mis- I fortune to be greatly pleased with, one I another, it was quite natural for us to; yield to the temptation!’ ‘I see,’ answered Mr. Meirs' with much i apparent chagrin, ‘I have just had the] honor of turning your cousin out of doors, which makes a compound blunder on my part. To tell you tho truth. Bella, lam far more vexed at my own stupidity, than with any one else. As for John Peters,’ added Mr. Meirs, in a half humorous, half sarcastic tone, 'I think I must forgive him for his’name’s sake, if nothing more. As tor you hussy, I shan’t say to night whether I shall forgive you or not. it will depend mainly on how we succeed in j pacifying your Cousin John,’ ! Suffice it to say, for the final gratificalof the reader, that John Peters of Balti- ( •more was readily pacified, after a suitable explanation and apology being tendered | him to his cousin, on the following day, and, what is still further averred, did actually laugh over the circumstances so heartily, that for a moment his face grew redder than his hair. And still further, . by those who have a right to know it has ’ .affirmed that John Peters of Connecticut : became, not only a model husband of Bella, but a model assistant to Mr. Meirs, in all matters pertaining in business. A Model Dun An editor-out west thus talks to his; non-paying subscribers and patrons. If this appeal does not bring in the 'pewter' we think he need not dun the second | time. i ‘Friends, Patrons, Subscribers, and I ’ Advertisers. —Hear us for our debts, end I get ready that you may pay. trust us we , ! are in need —and have regard for our \ I need for you have long been trusted; acI knowledge your indebtedness, and dive’ ■ into your pocket that you may promptly ! fork over. If there be any among you- | one single patron thatdon’towe ussomeI thing, then to him we say step inside—' | consider yourself a gentleman. If the rest wish to know why we dun them, this lis our answer. Not that we care about ] cash ourselves, but our creditors do.— ' Would you rather that wo go to jail, and ’ you go free, than you pay your debts and ’we all keep moving? As we have agreed ’ jwe have worked for you—as we have conn acted, we have furnished our paper to you, but as you don't pay. we dun you! Here are the agreements for job-work,' contracts for suscription, promises of long credits, and duns for defered payment. Who is there so mean that he don't take ; the paper? If any he needn’t speak, we , dont mean him. Who is there so green that lie don’t advertise? If any, let him •slide; he ain’t the chap either. Who is there so bad that he don't pay the printer? If any, let him shout—for he’s the man we are after. His name is Legion. He has been owing us one, two or three •years—long enough to make us poor and ] himself poor at our expense. If the above appeal to his conscience dosn’t ! awake bis sense of justice, wo shall have to try the law, and see what virtue there is in writs and constables.’ — ra Mr. Woodward living near Brandy Bay, in Wisconsin, had some difficulty with an Indian, whom he had ! fed nearly every day during the past winter, and kicked him out of doors. The next day his little girl, three years of age was standing near the house, when an Indian sprang out of the thicket, clasped herin his arms and bounded away through ’ the underbrush. Pursuit was commenced immediately but up to latest accounts without success.

Tho Sentimentalist in Court. is your name?’ ‘Mv name is Norval on the Grtimploa Hifls.’ ‘WhCi'e did vou dome from?’ •I came from the happy land where ' care is unknown.’ ‘Where are you lodging flow?’ ‘I dreamed 1 dtfeft in marble IlalU? ‘Where are you going to?’ ‘Far, far o’er hill and dale." ‘What is your occupation'?’ 'I played on a harp of a thousand strings.’ 'Are you married?’ ‘Long lime ago. Puffy, put tho Irottie dfi.’ •When were yon mairied?’ ‘ ’Twas ten o’clock one moonlight night,I' eVer shall remember.; 'How many childien have yort?’ j ‘There’s Doll and Bet and Moll and ; Kate and ‘What is your wife's name?’ •Oh, no, 1 never mention hdr.’ ‘Did your wife oppose your leaving?’ I ‘She wept when we parted.’ ‘ln what condition did you leave her?’ ‘ A rose tree in full bearing., ‘ls your family provided for?’ ‘A little farm well tilled.’ ‘Did your wife drive you off?' ‘O sublime was the warning.’ 'What did your wife say that induced you to slope?' ‘Coma rest in this bosom.' •Was your wife good looking?* ‘She was all my fancy painted her.’ •l>id your wife treat you badly?’ 'Oft in the stilly night.’ ‘Whefi you' annou'nceJ your intention of emigrating what did your wife say?’ 'O, dear, what can the matter be?* •And what did you reply?’ ‘tweet Kitty clover, don't bother mas so.’ ■Where did you last see her?’ 'We met —Twas in a crowd.' •What did she say to you when you ; were in the act of leaving?’ •Go, forget me.’ 'Do you still love her?’ •The minstrels returned from tho War.* ‘What are. your possessions?’ •Old dog Tray.’ ! ‘What do you propose to do with him?* j ‘Send him to the other side of Jordan.' ‘IIoW do you proposd to make a liv- ■ “d • ‘Pull off my coat and roll up my sleeves ’ ‘The Judge Couldn’t stand it any more and accordingly sent him up for tbrea months. A Good One. Count)’ court was sitting awhile ligor i n iO n the Connecticut. It was co.d weather, and a knot of lawyers had collected around the old Franklin in the bar- ; room. The fire blazed, and mugs of flip were passing away without a groan, when in come a rough, gaunt-looking ‘babe of I the woods,' knapsack on shoulder and ’ stan in Lund. | He looked cold, and Lalf’perambulating the circle that hemmed in the five, arf ; with a wall of brass, looked for a chance to warm his shins. Nobody moved, how- • ever, and, unable to sit down for lack of achair, he did the next best thing—leaned ! against the wall, with 'tears in bis fist and I his eyes doubled up,’ and iistned to tho discussing on the proper way of serving a refere on a warrentee deed rs if he was the judge to decide the matters. Soon he attracted tho attention of the company, and a young sprinspoke to him.' 1 ‘You look like a traveler.’ I ‘Well, I s’pose I am: I came from Wisconsin a foot, at any rate.' ‘From Wisconsin! That is quite adiff- ; fance to go on one pair of legs, I say, I did you ever pass through hell in your tr ivels?’ i 'Yes, sir,’ he answered, a kind of wickI ed look stealing over his ugly pbizmaogny ‘I thought likely. Well, what are the ; manners and customs there? 8o:ne of us ; would like to know.’ 'Oh,’ says the pilgrim, deliberately, ; shirting his eyes and drawing round , the corners of his mouth til! two rows of yellow slubs, with a mass as masticated pig-tail, appeared through the slit in his 'check, ‘you’ll find them much the same as they are in this region.—the lawyers : set highest the fire!’ Loveliness. — It is not your neat dress, your expensive shawl, cr yonr pretty fingers that attract the attention of men of sense. They look beyond these.— It is the true loveliness of your nature I that wins and continues to retain the sf- ; feclions of the heart. Young ladies sadly • miss it who labors to improve their outI ward looks, while they bestowed not s • thought on their minds. Fools may be won by gew-gaws and fashionable, •enwy ■ dresses; but rhe wise and substantial arc’ - never eaught by such traps. Let modes--1 ty be your dress. Use pleasant and ai greeable language, and though you m-»-> ■ not be courted by the fop and the sop- >' the good end the truly great will love ~> linger in youv steps »"•

NO. 9.